Of Lust and Corruption -- Lust
by Eos-Is-Mah-Muse-157
Summary: Just how far does the lure of the One reach? (The prologue may sound familiar but I've taken a new approach. Wherein - you find slash *and* het. ^.^)
1. Disclaimers, Musings and Author's Notes

Disclaimer:   
     All characters from Lord Of The Rings belong to the Tolkien enterprise. Obviously the characters you see here that are not mentioned in the book were created by Eos and I. These crazy kids just find their way into Tolkien's novel for a good old fashioned non-profit time.   
    However, I belong to myself, and Eos has given me her permission to use our post-writing conversations in my fanfictions. But - Eos owns herself, too. ^.^ 

  


    Ten a.m. - big white feathers in your face definitely not a way to start your Sunday.   
    "Wake up sleepyhead!" my muse shouts. "I'm hungry!"   
    "Go away," I grumble, throwing the covers back over my head.   
    She pulls the covers away from me. "Make me breakfast."   
    I turn over. "Make if yourself."   
    "There's people downstairs."   
    "Oh well." I sit up. "What are you doing here, anyway? It's ten in the morning, not ten at night," I point out.   
    She shrugs. "I was bored and hungry. C'mon - make me some chocolate chip pancakes."   
    I rub at my eye. Itchy. "Why should I make you pancakes?"   
    She gives me 'the look'. No one can resist 'the look'. "Please?"   
    I get out of bed. "Fine," I grumble.   
    She giggles. "Your hair is sticking up in several different directions."   
    "That's what happens when you have short hair, Eos, love."   
    Some time later I return with a fresh batch of my special made chocolate chip pancakes. Eos is sitting at my computer, reading. When I set the plate down, she immediately shoves a pancake into her mouth.   
    "Whacha readin'?" I ask.   
    "Old fic that you took down cause it sucked."   
    "Oh yea?"   
    "Yea. We should re-do it. The concept's not all that bad."   
    I giggle, taking Eos' place at the computer. She has chocolate on her cheek. "Let's do it then." She shoves another pancake in. "Um... Eos?"   
    Mouth full. "Yea?"   
    "You have some chocolate on your cheek."   
    She wipes at the wrong cheek. Chocolate smears alabaster - she must have had chocolate on that finger. "Did I get it?"   
    I sigh. So funny. "Yes, Eos. You got it."   
    She smiles with satisfaction before returning to her meal. Muses are so gullable. 

  


    Just some quick notes - obviously there's some slash here. As far as I can tell you, I'm planning on the inevitable f/f and there's definitely going to be some m/m. None of the relationships are really LoTR character related... with the acception of an implied pairing that lasts only a chapter anyway. However, fear not for there is some f/m... some. Kind of... Right now story is rated R for adult themes and language. The story could very possibly go NC-17 but we'll just have to wait and see where my characters want to go, eh? ^.~ Right... story is set up in two parts - Lust and Corruption. Lust is told from Elanor's POV and Corruption is told from Dorion's (by the end, I found that knowing what Dorion's side of the story was became imperative to tell). But it's going to take quite a while to get to corruption, believe you me. 


	2. Prologue

  
    It's funny how things work. You're a college senior who's going to graduate from a prestige school first in your class. You're an all out dyke with fuck-me good looks and women throwing themselves at you. You have power and influence and so much cash that even your grandchildren won't have to work a day in their lives. You're invincible. You've got it all in your pocket and you're on your way to the top- higher than anyone ever dreamt of going. No one is going to take you down. Nothing is going to hold you back... Or so you thought.   
    You didn't count on that tiny band of gold- looking so innocent, so freaking pure.   
    One moment you're swimming, wrapped in bliss and the next you are spiraling downwards, the blood of another human being on your hands. You run blindly through the forest, seeking some form of relief, something to calm your heart. There is none. You stumble into a clearing and gasp in shock, seeing something you never thought you would see in a million years. It is what happened to me, Mark's blood on my hands, tripping as I ran through the labyrinth of trees. I heard the unmistakable sound of a river, a very large one. I ran towards it, trying desperately to blink away the blood that ran into my eyes. I came to the edge of the wood, hearing someone calling my name far away.   
    "Elanor!"   
    I tried to look back for the one calling my name but I tripped over a tree root and stumbled into the clearing. My head spun and the river roared in my ears. I looked around, seeing only crimson. I rubbed my eyes, trying to be rid of the suffocation. When the world was no longer shrouded, I gasped in shock. I sat at the base of what could only be the Argonath. I stared in amazement, taking in the immense carving of Isildur looming above me, the sun just coming up over the horizon. I could not believe it. I remained as I was, sitting on my feet and they started to go numb. The voice calling my name got closer and finally my companion burst out into the clearing. By the look on her face it was easy to tell that she was more surprised than I. Because we had done it. We had _fucking_ done it.   
    We had succeeded in our task. 


	3. Chapter 1

  
    The initial shock wearing off, I became aware of someone clutching my arm. I blinked a few times, the blood still haunting me. Crystal didn't look any better. Those lips - beautiful soft lips - trembled and she fell into my arms. It felt like she was coming home. I shook the thought off. Don't go there, Elanor. She's just come back into your life and you have a great deal more shit to deal with right now than your past relationships.   
    Taking off her clothes didn't make the situation any easier and removing my own seemed damn near impossible. As soon as we were both naked, she held onto me again, still in shock. A bit dazed myself, I led her into the Anduin, the water ice on my skin. She shivered, clutching me tighter. I stroked her blood-soaked hair. "Shh..."   
    She whimpered in protest as I knelt, taking her deeper into the water with me. The only thing I could think of was getting clean. Wash the blood away. Wash Mark away. I tilted her backwards, still stroking her hair and whispering softly to her. Don't be afraid. It's going to be ok. It's all right.   
    Her head had barely touched the water when the spell was broken. She yelped and sprang from the water, huddling on the shore. She wrapped her arms around her knees, sobbing. Please, don't cry. Sighing, I forced my head under the water. I came up gasping, freezing, numb. But Mark was gone. Goodbye Mark...   
    Sighing again, I saw that Crystal was still huddled on the shore, her body trembling. Walking up to her I took her hand. She didn't look up at me. I tugged a bit but she wouldn't move. I knelt in front of her, pushing a few blood-soaked strands of hair behind her ear.   
    "Hey," I whispered. "C'mon, it's just water. We have to get clean, Ok? You don't want to wander around all a mess like that. You could get sick or worse." I pulled a bit more on her hand. God. I've known this girl since my freshman year of high school. She was my world since the moment I met her, however long it took me to become hers. And even after we 'broke-up', I still couldn't hate her. I couldn't feel bad for her. I could only love her. I don't think I could have remembered loving her more before then.   
    At last she looked up at me with those beautiful shining sapphires. I always drowned in those eyes, those eyes that now hid a myriad of emotion. "Mark," she choked. I waited for her to finish. Her eyes became cloudy, tears forming again. "We... he..." A sob. Perhaps she wasn't going to finish after all.   
    She fell into my arms again, weeping. Without a word I picked her up and carried her out, about waist deep, into the river. I shivered and my teeth clicked violently. She didn't seem to notice - not until her head touched the water again. She pushed away in shock from the cold, gasping loudly. But I hadn't been expecting her to push away and I felt her slip from my arms. She came up from the water sputtering; blood a faint memory in the waters around us. Shit. I hadn't meant to drop her.   
    I expected her to do something - yell, cry, go back under the water again - but she did nothing. She just stood there, staring at me. And what killed me the most was that I couldn't tell what she was thinking. I used to be able to - once. Our souls were in complete sync. Every thought, every word, every breath - it all came from one soul, one entity. Had we really become that out of tune? It's only been two years... two of the longest fucking years of my life.   
    "Elanor."   
    That was all. 'Elanor.' I didn't know what she meant in saying it - I just wished she would say it again. She took my hand and together we walked back to the shore. Maybe somehow this meant that all was repaired, her fingers entwined with mine. Maybe this means we had finally made peace.   
    We used my undershirt to towel off as best we could and tried to remove some of the blood from our clothing with it when we were dry. I dug a shallow hole and buried the shirt, hoping that none of the natives of Middle-Earth would find it. When I stood, wiping the dirt off my hands, she was watching me intently.   
    "What now?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper.   
    I sighed, raking a hand through my damp locks. It used to be short - butch. But I hadn't cut it in two years. "We find the others," I answered. It seemed like the right thing to do. It was weird, but I felt so calm, so collected. Common thought and rationality were coming surprisingly easy. It was almost as if I had been bred for an event such as this - no, this particular event - since my birth. 

  
    We found them all. Well, most all of them. I was partially glad that we didn't find Dorion, but partially afraid. Dorion scared me - there wasn't much else to it. He scared the crap out of me - mainly because I couldn't beat him in a fight. He had proved it to me more than once, and was more than willing to prove it to me again. Not knowing where he was at this point in time was a big minus on the checklist of safety.   
    I didn't hate Dorion because he was Crystal's ex-boyfriend. I didn't hate him because he had persisted even after she finally got up the courage to leave him. I didn't hate him because he assaulted me on more than one occasion, sometimes drunk, sometimes sober. I didn't hate him because he violated every single restraining order we set out against him. I didn't hate him because he threatened my life. And I definitely didn't hate him because he never got caught.   
I hated him for abusing Crystal in every possible way. I hated him for the emotional abuse, the verbal abuse, the physical abuse, the sexual abuse. I hated him for tearing Crystal's soul to shreds and leaving the pieces to cling to her for dear life as she fought the hurricane - while he claimed he loved her.   
    I hated him because he took the lives of dozens of innocents just to make his dream come true. And finally, when it had worked, I had been a part of it. I felt low. Very low.   
    I would have killed that bastard if we found him, anyway. I used to have fantasies where I would hold his throat and watch as the life just faded from his ugly brown eyes. Muddy eyes. They thought terrible thoughts - always clouded, always dull. I wanted to claw his eyes out with my fingers, feel his cries of agony vibrate down my spine, chilling me to the core. But I always felt guilty about those fantasies. It was almost as if I was as bad as him - if not worse.   
    Lish and Miranda were together when we stumbled across them. They were looking, too. I couldn't help but smile. Probably the only two I trusted - the only two who still held innocence. Miranda was a year younger than I, Lish two. When I met Lish it was at the premiere of _The Return Of The King_. The Tolkien Club had taken a field trip that day. I was jealous - my school didn't have a Tolkien Club. He was just a bubbly little freshman, his brown hair disheveled, his big blue eyes sparkling like a child's in a candy store. He was a breath of fresh air. Miranda was breathtakingly beautiful and always gossiping. She represented the movie fans of _Lord Of The Rings_, one of her millions of Orlando Bloom t-shirts an item of clothing she was rarely without. She and Lish seemed to have a bond, sort of like brother and sister. However, they seemed incomplete... It was Miranda's twin brother that closed the circle. It was Mark who completed the package.   
    I was taken with Mark immediately. He was the computer geek, the rationalist. He was quiet but warm and extremely friendly. His hair was always neat and combed and he would always wear sandals - even in a blizzard. That was one thing I found to be most interesting... Both Lish and Miranda loved him. I suspect he might have been dating Lish, perhaps even loved him, himself. I never knew - I don't think I ever will. But they were always together, the three of them.   
    It must have been the season for twins, because we found Casey and Cameron not soon after Lish and Miranda joined with us. Casey was Dorion's twin. They looked the same, had the same voice, the same build. But Casey was certainly a kinder soul than Dorion. He was a jock, though. He was the captain of the football team with a B average, the head cheerleader, Cameron, playing the role of devoted girlfriend at his side, and an asshole to all those who refused to be like everyone else - especially the members of his brother's club.   
    The club was always something to be considered. Dorion knew how to be fanatical. He was the president - a solid gold replica of the One Ring on his finger a constant reminder to all which twin he was. The other officers of the club had sported similar insignia. Being vice president, Mark always wore Vilya and in compliment Crystal would carry Nenya to show she kept the records. Miranda would display Narya from time to time; it's fiery background matching her personality and her un-tamed curls; the greed of money claiming her place. Meetings were always intense, the discussions brutal. This was no low-class group of Tolkien fans. If you didn't know your stuff, you could kiss your membership goodbye. It's not that you were kicked out - it's that you were shunned, teased, humiliated. Dorion had seen to it that the club had come off as a bunch of snobs, especially when he made it a requirement that all club members must learn Westron.   
    We set out, following the river northward. At last we found Jake when nightfall was upon us. We had been looking all day, following the river upstream, and Isildur and Anarion were now out of sight. Jake was leaning against a tree, nursing a very large gash in his arm. He had taken off his t-shirt and tied it around the wound, the black fabric soaked with crimson. For some reason, I didn't feel it polite to ask how it happened. This was Jake - it wasn't polite to ask him anything about himself.   
    "Ah, my search party," he commented, his voice bitter. Leave it to Jake to be sarcastic in a situation like this. He was the gothic one, the one who had the negative outlook on life, the outcast amongst the outcasts. Jack was nice, once you got past his anger. He hugged his jacket tighter around his torso. "So what do we do now?"   
    Casey was not a happy camper. He was pacing like an animal in a cage. "We find a way to get the fuck home - that's what we do! Of all the fucked up..." he muttered.   
    Lish looked alarmed. "Why would we go home? We're here! We actually made it! I mean- did you see the Argonath? It was incredible!! We can't go home now. We've barely had a chance to explore. I refuse to leave before we see some ents. And the kings! God the kings! We could visit Rohan and see Éomer and then head to Minas Tirith to see Elessar and Arwen. Maybe visit mayor Samwise in The Shire. The possibilities are endless!" Here we go. We're just going to jump into a big logical conversation requiring thought. I didn't want to think. C'mon guys - have some compassion.   
    "What guarantees the war of the ring is over?" Crystal asked thoughtfully. "For all we know, the One could still be in the Misty Mountains, or in the Anduin." Damn. But she had a point.   
    Miranda nodded. "I agree. We have some idea to what time period we're in, though. I mean, it's more than safe to say we're in the third age - or after. The Argonath prove that." How am I supposed to tell them that I'm pretty sure that we _are_ in the third age without telling them how I know? Damn again.   
    "Ah, but how can we be sure that we are even in Middle-Earth?" That was Jake, always being the skeptic. "What are we basing that on? A couple of stone statues on either side of a river? It sounds a bit fishy to me - considering that not all of us have seen it. I don't know about you but I can't really remember last night. You could have been hallucinating."   
    I frowned. So perhaps I was the only one conscious for the transition.   
    "No," Crystal spoke up. "Elanor and I certainly weren't hallucinating. The Anduin... it's very cold, you know. Cold enough to jar a person from shock or hallucination."   
    Casey's eyes were boring into Jake's. "I can vouch - we sure as hell aren't in Boston any more, that much is fucking obvious." Jake frowned back.   
    "It's getting very hard to see you guys," Cameron muttered. "And it's getting colder. We should light a fire." Casey drew his arm tighter around Cameron and nuzzled her neck. I tried not to look. Hets.   
    "Yea," Jake scoffed. "Let me just pull out a match out of my ass and light you a nice big bonfire."   
    Casey scowled at Jake, looking too drained to do much else. Don't go making enemies out of each other now, guys. We have to stick together... It was then that the nicotine craving hit me. Thinking about fire just got me to thinking about the lighter I always carried with me. It had been almost a day and I had been too wrapped up to notice - I hadn't smoked in over a day. And now just the thought of it brought a full-blown craving. "I need a smoke, " I muttered. Ok, bad habit, I know. Blame is on my roommate Harlind.   
    I fished through my pockets. Please. Please. Need nicotine. Lovely lovely nicotine. A-ha! I smiled triumphantly, producing a lighter and a half-full pack of cigs from my inside pocket. Not caring if anyone was watching me, I hurriedly lit a cigarette, taking a ling, deep drag. I exhaled slowly, relishing the feeling of a craving quenched.   
    Ok, so everyone was staring at me. "What?" I asked. I looked at Crystal. She seemed unhappy. I knew why - she hated it when I smoked. She had even gotten me to quit, but when you're depressed and the one you love is no longer in your life, nothing else seems to matter.   
    Lish snatched the lighter from my hands and I answered with a small cry of protest. That was a fucking expensive lighter! Got it in Hawaii. It used propane instead of lighter fluid. In short- it was like a miniature blowtorch. You could ignite it upside-down and the flame wouldn't go upwards. I think that's why I liked it so much.   
    "Let's gather ourselves a faggot or two," Jake said, half-joking. When I scowled at him he laughed. Nonetheless, we had a nice fire in minutes and the lighter was under my possession. Unfortunately, they had wrestled away my pack of cigarettes to ignite the kindling. They shut me up by promising we would go to the Shire first and get me a few barrels of Old Toby. Not quite the same as cigarettes, but just as good.   
    We sat around the fire in contemplative silence. I was turning my lighter over and over in my hand, it's cool surface reminding me of everything beyond fantasy. Lish sat back against a tree, gazing at the moon in wonder. Isil. I like that word - pretty word. "We did it," he murmured. "We actually did it."   
    I sighed. This was getting us nowhere. Where the hell was Dorion? We did have to find him, fantasy vacation or no. I turned the thought over in my head. Why was coming here so damn important to him, anyway? So important that it was worth trial and error involving human sacrifice? But above all - I wanted to know where he was. I needed to know. Had to know. I wouldn't feel safe if I didn't - I wouldn't feel like we could travel at leisure without Dorion in check.   
    Casey seemed to be pondering similar, less articulate, thoughts. "Then where the fuck is my brother?"   
    Well put. Where had that bastard gone? Exactly how much power did Dorion have over the ritual? Was it possible that he was able to manipulate our place in time as well as our locations? I suspected foul play and lots of it. I mean, c'mon. This was the guy who threatened me on numerous occasions and two years after Crystal and I split up I wake up with a knife to my throat and those ugly eyes looking me in the face. I sighed. Maybe I was being too hard on him. He could just be lost... or unconscious. Or maybe his body was already at the foot of Rauros... or he was mauled by some Uruk-hai on the eastern shore.   
    Yea, I definitely still hated him. I hoped he was dead above all else. A quick glance at Crystal's face ensured that feeling in me. I could almost see the black eyes, the stinging red handprints across her cheeks, the gashes in her lips, blood from her nose. I saw them all before and I saw them every time I looked at her, every time I thought of him.   
    "What are we going to do?" Cameron asked. She was clinging to Casey. I frowned. Something told me that she had a hidden agenda, too. Anyone that close with Dorion's other half had to have a hidden agenda.   
    "We won't be able to survive out here," Lish began shakily. He was reasoning, bless him. I wasn't going to take care of this all on my own. Leadership had to be earned. If I just took it, they might not follow me willingly. I needed their loyalty.   
    I searched for the next thing to say. I needed them to realize that we had to get to civilization - fast. How? How do I get them to thinking? - get them to realize 'Hey! We fell into this world with nothing but the clothes on our back and Mark's blood on our hands!' I shivered involuntarily. There was a cool breeze - quite cool, actually. But I also shivered out of memory. Mark's pleas mixed with Dorion's crazed chanting. The words of the black speech distorting every thought in my brain as I felt the steaming fluid on my skin, surrounding me in its foul stench. I had tried to gag, tried to cry out, tried to protest. But the world was spinning. So fast. So dizzy. Next thing I knew I was on my knees, and then I was running, flying, blindly into the woods.   
    "It's cold. My guess is that it's autumn," Miranda commented, brining me back. Bingo! Thank you, Miranda darling. I always knew I liked you.   
    "We don't have any food, either," I pointed out. "Perhaps we should head north, find the closest civilization."   
    "And where would that be?" Jake snapped. He seemed to be especially upset over something; over what I had no clue.   
    I just made a small mental note to check him out later and proceeded. Time to test them. How well do you know your Tolkien geography? "Well," I answered, keeping my voice vague. "The only place I can think of is -"   
    Jake cut me off. He was quicker than I thought. "Are you suggesting that we go into Lothlórien?" Jake was clearly upset. "You're mad! Absolutely fucking mad! Do you have a death wish? They'll shoot us on sight! We won't even get past the borders - we won't even be given a chance to explain! Hell - they wouldn't understand us if we did. I'm certainly not fluent in Quenya." He glared at me, challenging me. Yep. He was definitely pissed off over something - and it wasn't just this strange turn of events. I held my tongue - it wasn't time to reveal any of my many talents. Not yet. I needed them to crack first - to realize. Damn. How I kept so calm was beyond me.   
    "Mark knew Quenya," Lish whispered. He shook uncontrollably, tears running unchecked down his cheeks. I waited. It would all crash from there - and it did. Realization hit them, one-by-one. Miranda burst into tears, holding Lish close as the younger man cried on her shoulder. Jake hit his head back against the tree and punched the ground. He wasn't one to cry. Cameron sought solace on her boyfriend's shoulder, her body raking with dry sobs. Casey only held Cameron close, petting her hair softly.   
    I didn't know what Crystal was feeling, what she was doing. She had been sitting beside me, out of my line of vision. I could only feel her presence - and right now she wasn't even breathing. When she spoke she surprised me. I had never heard her voice so calm, so strong.   
    "We're here at Mark's expense. We owe it to him to do whatever it takes to unite with Dorion and enjoy what time we have here. So we may hit a few bumps - but nothing is perfect." I could almost see her wry smile as she spoke her next words. "Not even this fantasy trip into a magical world."   
    I cleared my throat. I didn't want them to forget who had killed Mark, who had performed the ritual. "That's right. We wouldn't be here if it weren't for what happened to Mark," I echoed. "Don't forget it."   
    I didn't have to look at Jake to know he hated me at that moment. So it's me he's upset with, eh? Interesting. "We have to go into Lothlórien," I persisted, allowing my Quenya accent to flood the name of the enchanted forest. "We have no other choice. This world is moving. It's not like time is going to stop just because we shouldn't be here, and offer us a free ticket home. Above all, we need to know the date - where we are in the story. We have to tiptoe around at all times. To interfere would be dire. Galadriel will probably-" definitely "-know we're here and I know she can help us-" hopefully.   
    "Why are we here in the first place if we can't interfere?" Lish asked bitterly.   
    "Ask Dorion." I spoke the name with such discontent, such disgust, that I felt Crystal shiver. I wanted to hold her. Don't worry, hun. I'm never going to let him touch you ever again. Never. God I had missed her. She had been the only thing on my mind since that faithful day - two years ago... No time to walk down memory lane. No time. Need to get my point across. "Look," I pleaded, "We're days from civilization of any sort. We don't have food, we don't have any way to protect ourselves, we don't even have a fucking blanket to keep us warm. Lórien is the closest salvation."   
    "How do we know they're not all gone?" Cameron countered. She surprised me. She couldn't tell Elijah Wood from Frodo Baggins. And Casey had hated Tolkien's works. 'It was all Dorion had talked about since he came out of the fucking womb,' he had once said. 'It was always "one ring" this and "ash nagz" that.'   
    "The war of the ring could be over," Cameron continued. "Galadriel could have left for the undying lands ages ago." Ok... I wasn't expecting that. Since when did she sound like she knew so much?   
    Fuck. I wasn't counting on a contradiction. Damnit, Elanor. You always have a plan. Always. You're slipping... Ok... deep breaths. Control. Stay in control. "I saw some orcs scouting the eastern shore earlier today." Ok, so it was a dumb lie. My theory was not based entirely on false hopes. Oh, no. But if I had told them what I really thought, they might have panicked - or worse. Casey would most definitely not be too thrilled with my premise.   
    Wasting time... wasting time...   
    At length I spoke again. "I have a plan."   
    Miranda and Lish seemed interested. Crystal shifted position to look at me. Good. At least I wasn't completely alone. Jake just scowled at me. I think he blamed me. Of course - blame it on the latecomer, the rich spoiled kid. Casey watched me, his eyes locked. He didn't want to be here. I didn't blame him. Cameron feigned interest.   
    "Well?" Jake asked. "What's the plan?" He was obviously impatient. I didn't blame him either.   
    I drew in a deep breath. Time to go in for the kill. I annunciated slowly, speaking in my native tongue. "I shall pose as an Elf of Lothlórien."   
    Jaws dropped. Priceless.   
    "Hold on," Casey said. "What the hell did she just say?"   
    "You know Quenya," Miranda stated. It was not a question, but it was directed at me.   
    I nodded. "My parents refused I spoke anything but as a child." I wished I could have seen Crystal's face - try to decipher what she was feeling, thinking. But I didn't dare turn to face her. Perhaps she would be gone and I might have been imagining her warmth this whole time.   
    Jake sighed. "What do we have to do?" 

  
    I watched Crystal sleep that night. So peaceful. She shivered a bit and I draped my jacket over her sleeping form. She clutched at it, sighing with contentment. My heart screamed. So many memories. Midnight trysts, steamy looks across a crowded room, stealing kisses in the morning just before class. Gone. Wasted. All because I had to go to that fucking party. All because I let my fucking pride get the better of me.   
    It was getting towards the end of my junior year when Lish threw the party. Of course Crystal and I had to go - this was Lish. But dear god, the alcohol consumption. It was Casey that damn Casey.   
    "Bet I can drink your pretty little ass under the table," he had said in a drunken slur.   
    And then without thinking, "You're on."   
    I still can't remember how the idea came into his head, can't remember what we were talking about. But there we were, taking shots like only college students could and I felt Crystal behind me, silently pleading with me to stop. She never drank; she didn't like it when I drank. But I didn't want to stop, couldn't stop.   
    But I had won, earning many slaps on the back, or so I have been told. I don't remember much. But I do remember the shouting outside. Dorion was invited to the party, too. He was their former president, after all. Even after we all moved on from high school, it still seemed like he governed the lot of us somehow. He still loomed about, familiar arrogance radiating off of him. I remember Crystal shouting at Dorion. Dorion shouting back. Push came to shove and I had to get involved. I remember threats, insults, empty words. Her hand on my arm, pulling me away. Me, not wanting to be pulled away.   
    I had been subject to his attack one too many times and I would be damned if I didn't fight back when I had this much alcohol coursing through my veins. I swear, I had the tolerance of Mithrandir and Lord Elrond combined. They were so old they could probably take a whole vineyard and not even sway.   
    But I was still weaker than Dorion. And he still wanted to kill me. Not that the feeling wasn't mutual, but I had never been this shitfaced in my life. The hand was back, pleading. Begging me to let it go. But I couldn't let it go. Together we had been letting it go for six fucking years! But then the hand was gone, and Crystal was on the ground. Thoughts of 'Did I just do that?' and 'What the hell?' followed by the realization and 'Oh fuck' and 'I'm no better than he is.'   
    After that night I refused to talk to Crystal. How could I face her after that? I drowned myself in my studies, went back to smoking. Harlind was worried. The only time I had to face Crystal was when she came to pick up her things. She didn't understand it back then - and neither did I. But we were both hurt, on so many different levels and in so many different ways.   
    I felt a presence beside me, jarring me from my thoughts. Miranda. She was doing her best to smile.   
    "You can speak Quenya," she said. I smiled. "Yes, I can. It was the first language I ever learned and the only language I spoke for a long time."   
    The shock on her face was priceless. I loved shocking people. "How is that possible?"   
    "Very," I answered. "My father's name is Samuel Gamgee, my mother's name Rosie. Fanatical parents breed fanatical children."   
    She laughed. It's not funny. "It's true," I said. "You see, my father's name was Samuel Grenham my mother's name was Rosalynd Crintinton. They met in the library in high school, both of them taking out Tolkien's books. They knew it was destined - I mean, it had to be. It would have been downright ridiculous if they were named Beren and Tinúviel, but Sam and Rosie were believable. My father was always the romantic. And then when they married they changed their name and built their lives around wat they loved. They were absolutely obsessed. My father became one of the foremost experts in Tolkien's works, mastering most of Tolkien's languages. He grew up traveling around the world, so learning new languages came easy to him. He's written tons of books, including translated versions of Tolkien's works (as well as his own) into Tolkien's languages for the extremists. My mother had a knack for art and did a lot of concept paintings. They made millions - just like that - and bought a mansion in remote New Hampshire and called it Bag-end. It was a joke, really. But a clever joke. When they found out that their firstborn child would be a girl, it was almost too ironic. Thankfully I was an only child. Can you imagine having a brother named Frodo?" She laughed. Ok, that was funny.   
    "But they raised me well. I was to be the model 'Tolkien child'. They home-schooled me since I could talk. I was reciting my tengwar long before any other child my age knew their abc's. I blossomed, if that's the right phrase, and I couldn't have been happier. But my parents realized I was missing friends, so they enrolled me in public school - at my request. I was... Oh, fourteen, I think. And the rest just goes from there. I made friends, tried to keep my eccentric upbringing a secret and stayed away from the Tolkien fans. It's not that I didn't want to talk to them - but I guess I was holding myself back. I didn't want to make anyone jealous or feel belittled. I think I may have bee naive, though. If it weren't for you guys I never would have met Crystal... You can fill in the rest from there, I think."   
    Miranda laid a head on my shoulder. "Thanks for sharing. I used to read about you, you know. Online. I went to your web page all the time. I found it fascinating the intimate details of your upbringing. Did your mom really paint the walls of your bedroom to look like you were in Lothlórien?"   
    I laughed. "Yea. I remember that. My parents were disappointed that I liked elves better than hobbits."   
    Another little giggle. "I guess it was just... it was how I wanted things to be. My parents would always be fighting, divorce obviously in sight, my older brother would always be with his jock buddies, my sister would always be slutting around town at night. Mark built me a computer and I guess that's how we bonded. Every night, he would read to me - from Lord of The Rings. When we had finished for the second time, we found your web page. Everyone in the forums were always so friendly. And my favorite thing was the fanficion. Yours were my favorite," she added with a smile. "Thank you."   
    I was touched. I had never known my web page could have meant that much to someone. I was just looking for a way to communicate with the outside world - a way to make friends. Her comment really hit home.   
    We sat for a while, just silent, until I noticed she had fallen asleep on my shoulder. Smiling, I carefully laid her down, deciding that I should get some sleep as well. I couldn't, though. Not with Crystal so close by. I opted for watching the sun rise.   
    Crystal and I would do that sometimes, when we would go to visit my parents. Usually we would climb the small mountain behind the house with a blanket and just look at the stars. She would fall asleep in my arms I would wake her up with a kiss as the sun's first rays came over the horizon.   
    I sighed. More days but memories lost. 


End file.
